


The Denaturation and Reconstruction of Bulma Briefs

by MahoganyDoodles



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Manipulation, Morally Ambiguous Character, Raditz didn't come to Earth AU, Villain Origin, War, give other characters actual plot things to do 2kalways
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25651417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MahoganyDoodles/pseuds/MahoganyDoodles
Summary: Why do we always hear about the redemptions but never the damnifications?Because from her perspective, doing the wrong thing sure felt good.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 9
Kudos: 19
Collections: Vegebulocracy Reverse Bang 2020





	The Denaturation and Reconstruction of Bulma Briefs

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the VBO Reverse Bang 2020, where an artist provided a sketch of their piece and artists and authors were paired up. My artist was [JanxAngel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanxAngel/pseuds/JanxAngel/works) (whose work will be included later in this fic!) and [Piccolo_is_green](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piccolo_is_green/works) also wrote a fic for the same sketch, so please be sure to check both of them out!
> 
> This fic is written from first perspective, because Bulma _is_ an unreliable narrator. Because of this, there is manipulation that goes unnoticed by Bulma at multiple points throughout the story. When, who, to what extent, and how much Bulma gives the same treatment back... I'll leave up to you.
> 
> When I was writing this, I drew a significant amount of inspiration from Watchmen, in the sense of "how would these Dragon Ball characters handle the ongoing trauma of these battles? How do people commit atrocious actions and justify them to themselves?"
> 
> Everyone is the hero of their own story.

_“_ **_Do_ ** _it?” Dan, I’m not a Republic_ **_serial_ ** _villain. Do you seriously think I would explain my_ **_master-stroke_ ** _if there remained the slightest chance of you affecting its_ **_outcome?_ **

_I did it 35 minutes ago.”_

**—Ozymandias,** Watchmen

It was hard work, creating and maintaining a defense system on a technologically backwater planet. It was calloused hands and machine oil grimed under fingernails, sleepless nights and cricks in the neck when you woke up half-beneath a partly built ki-powered transformer. It was missing birthdays, weeks between calls to Mom and Dad, lost love and friends turned to business and—

“Bulma,” called a friendly voice, interrupting my reverie. “Are ya here?”

A pipe hit my head and curses shot from my lips. Fuck, should have known better than to whip up like that, no matter how bad my harebrained friend had spooked me. Nursing the growing bump on my head, I sat up and turned to where he stood. 

“What?” I snapped. His eyebrows soared into his spiky hair, surprised in the wake of my anger. My whole body deflated. “Sorry—you caught me off guard. What is it?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I was just comin’ to see how the new tech was comin’ along. I know ya been workin’ hard and I just wanted to see if there was anythin’ I could help ya with.” I could hear the hope in his voice. “Is there?”

For all his flaws, all the arguments we got in and the differences of opinion and the just plain incompatibility of our worldviews, he tried _so hard._ I gestured to the half-finished construction on the floor. “This needs to be welded to the transmission, and with a tight seal to prevent the transmission fluid from leaking out. I could do it myself, but you would help speed up the process. You up to it?”

He bounced on his heels, all eager puppy dog eyes and good spirit— _where did he find these endless sources of energy when all that stared back in my mirror was bitterness and spite?_ —already hovering in the air with the part in hand, perfectly positioned. The soldering iron flared to life in my hands, fusing the connection points. “But really, as much as I love your visits, why did you stop by?”

“I already said! I came by to see how things were comin’ and if ya needed any help.”

I raised a brow. “And you just thought of this on your own?” Goku wasn’t known for purely social calls when there were new fighters to train and battle techniques to refine.

“Of course!” he said, still smiling. “I was trainin’ with everyone earlier today and thinking about how I hadn’t seen you in a week and then Yamcha said—”

I groaned. Of course. Of fucking course. “You didn’t even notice, did you.”

The smile dropped from his face, and he spoke, words painstaking and slow. “I may not be as smart as you, but I’m not stupid, Bulma.”

Shit. “I didn’t say that, Go—”

“And just because I disagree with you about turning the defense system into a weapon doesn’t mean I’m stupid either or that I don’t trust you.”

A hot flash of anger rose inside. Or was it exasperation? Fuck if I knew. Deep breaths, Bulma, deep breaths. “I never said you were stupid for being against the ALCS. I just don’t agree.” This had gone exactly where I hadn’t wanted it to, exactly where all of our conversations seemed to go nowadays. “Look—it’s in the very name. It’s a locator and _counterstrike_ system; we won’t be the ones to throw the first punch. It’s automated so we’re ready to go at a moment’s notice so we can _save_ lives, not to just operate without any oversight.”

Goku’s face was set. “I know what you think, but numbers are going to be our best way to figure out who the fighters are and who’s just there, machines can’t make those decisions. The collateral from destroying whole ships is just too high, there are too many innocent people on board, and we’d be just as bad as Frieza. Maybe when we have more allies we’ll be able to use your inventions at a smaller scale, but for now, our best offense is a good defense.”

A memory of blonde hair flashed through my mind. Teeth gritted. “Collateral. As if we haven’t had enough people die on Earth as it is from your strategy.”

“We destroyed the last patrol thanks to the help from Hera—”

“Yeah, a patrol of all of ten soldiers,” I muttered.

“—and with Yakon we’ll be able to hold off a whole regiment.”

The hiss of the welding arc abruptly ceased, and I pulled back. Perfectly sealed.

How could I explain this to him? “Look, I understand that you won’t consider robotic targeting, and I get why, I do, but my dad made some advancements on the autonomous scouting equipment so we’ll be able to more accurately detect and destroy individual pods in targeted attacks, so we’ll be able to take out just the ships we know belong to the weapons division without needing Yakon’s help—”

“You don’t want to go.”

I froze. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go, it was just that Yakon was a fucking creep and I didn’t trust him as far as Goku could throw him. And I did _not_ like the way he looked at me, or really any of us—

His face softened immediately. And here I had thought I was getting better at the whole ‘concealing your emotions’ thing. “Ya don’t have anythin’ to worry about. I know you’re scared and ya don’t know what’s comin’ next, but I promise this is just how we have to do things for now and I’ll always protect ya.”

“Yeah, just like you protect—” No. That was too far. Even now, even when I was being treated like a helpless newborn. He’d been through enough.

But my hesitation was enough for Goku to know what I was going to say next. There was something duller about his eyes, more forced about his smile. “I need to get home to Gohan. I’ll see you tomorrow when we leave.”

Every hair on my body felt like it was on edge, all screaming at once that no, this was the _wrong_ decision as Goku turned his back on me and walked out that door. 

A cold weight settled in my gut. I fucked up. I knew that. How could I not, when poison dripped from my lips in the form of words? But despite that, despite all that… that didn’t make what I had said incorrect. It may have been the wrong thing to _say,_ but that did not mean that it in and of itself was wrong, or that this farce of an alliance wasn’t just a cleverly masked opportunity for Yakon to stab us in the back. I was so close… so goddamn close to making a breakthrough, to finding a technology that would be palatable to the people who called themselves the defenders of the Earth when they stood by and let their arbitrary rules restrain them and prevent them from standing up for what was right. 

I turned back to my task. No matter how many the Kold Empire killed, no matter the years we had spent embroiled in this conflict, no matter the despair, the hopelessness, the crashing waves of grief that passed over me, I wouldn’t give up. As long as the Earth was still left to fight for, I would keep fighting. 

My arc flared back to life. And I would start by making sure that if we were to be allied with Yakon, it was going to be damn well worth it.

Despite the jokes, training practice, and games that filled the journey to the rendezvous planet, the air aboard the ship was tense. Not even the overwhelming positivity that Goku exuded could smother the sense of trepidation, and for good reason. The earlier negotiations with the warlord had not gone well.

For once, I was glad that I was piloting the ship. The security measures that King Kold’s army had enacted to detect any unauthorized movement in the sector required constant focus to keep the craft concealed. It was a straightforward job, but it required just enough attention to keep my mind from calculating every possible negative outcome of the negotiations and how to counter it. Well, at least it slowed those thoughts down. 

A shadow covered the control panel. There was one of my two friends who wouldn’t have announced themselves. “Not now, Tien.”

“Please, don’t allow me to distract you,” he said, taking a seat to my right. “I simply wanted a quiet place to think.”

“Well, you won’t have long. We’ll be disembarking in just under seventeen minutes.” My voice dropped a few decibels. “And hopefully back on before much longer.”

He didn’t miss my muttered remark, and I began cursing myself immediately. _Stupid Bulma with her stupid mouth that she can’t keep shut._ “No. It’s wise to be cautious. But it’s also not wise to be so convinced of your views that you refuse to see potential opportunities—even if those opportunities should be approached cautiously.”

“Yeah, whatever,” I said. I tilted us downwards, slipping past the free-floating motion detectors unseen. “You’re Mr. Strategy, we know.”

He didn’t press me after that. But whatever his reason for letting the topic go, I took solace in the fact that despite the ‘galactic unity’ Earth’s Defense Force had been touting for the past few months, he didn’t seem confident in this plan’s success either.

Fifteen minutes later, even I had to admit that Yakon’s defense systems were impressive. Ours were better, of course, but still—from what I could see through the dim lighting, they had managed to establish a shield generator that encapsulated the entire planet, preventing any unauthorized spacecraft from entering and generating an alarm if any did. Did I think it would hold out against any one of the Kikono cruisers in the Kold fleet? Absolutely not. But to delay scouts and detect their presence earlier… the idea had merit. Although I had arrived confident that Yakon had nothing to offer us, each novel piece of technology I observed on our walk to the end of the gangway spawned dozens of prototype concepts of potential improvements that left my fingers twitching for my machine shop.

I could have almost gotten lost in a flurry of furious brainstorming. If it wasn’t for the hideous bug standing at the end of the path, that was.

His form was hard to make out in the darkness, but it was clear he towered over us even from this distance. Reptilian and taloned, I could feel the prickle on my skin of hair raising, an instinctual warning. This thing was a predator. We had done our research before coming, our informants sharing all they knew of this demon warlord, yet, I found myself longing for the kind face of Earth’s long-dead guardian rather than something that looked like him twisted into a monstrosity.

Goku dashed ahead and stuck out his hand. “You must be Yakon, it’s nice to meet ya. I’m Son Goku, and these are the rest of my friends.”

The giant figure didn’t move to take the offered hand, his bulbous eyes flickering across our group. When they landed on me, I stared back. There was a predatory gleam there, drool at his lips that let me know we were right to be wary of him. But after being Goku’s friend for over a decade, I had seen plenty scarier than him and I wasn’t about to let some old bug man think I was easy pickings.

His inspection apparently complete, after several uncomfortable seconds he dropped into a shallow bow and said, “Earthlings. You have come.” Sandpaper voice, check. Shark teeth, check. Weird attempt at a power play, check. My case against this guy was getting stronger and stronger, and based on the fleeting look on Tien’s face, I wasn’t the only one that thought so.

“Yep! This is Tien, our Chief Strategist, and Bulma, our Chief Technologist. We all work together as part of the primary force defending the Earth, and we appreciate ya having us out here. We’re looking forward to talking about the possibility of an alliance between our worlds.” For all I didn’t believe in this mission, I was glad that Goku was at its forefront. He _looked_ like a leader, broad-shouldered and tall, completely unperturbed by the fangs and claws. Yakon better be smart enough to feel the power radiating off him and know not to fuck with us.

Another slight bow and he extended a hand towards the wall to the left of us. “A tour of my hold, before negotiations?”

As a matter of fact, I would like to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible so I would not, actually, like a tour, but I had already passed my personal record for sticking my foot in my mouth in the past twenty-four hours, so despite the massive amount of effort it took, I held my tongue and filed in after Tien.

What was it we were walking past? I wasn’t quite sure, only that… it didn’t seem like it belonged. Tapestries, detailed ironwork, golden vases, artfully woven furniture: none of it fit together. Perhaps everything was so dissimilar simply because I didn’t understand the difference in culture between Earth and this planet, or perhaps it was because this was an outpost and not his home planet of Dark Star; my gut was telling me that wasn’t the case, deepening the anxious feeling that had settled there. 

Yakon regaled us with the tales of the heroics of his people, how they had won countless battles, but as we proceeded down the hall, I couldn’t spot a single other member of his species. Every worker that we had passed hunched over into themselves, shifting into the shadows and skirting our gaze. 

Goku’s head swiveled from side to side as he took every detail in. “Wow! This stuff is beautiful. It’s incredible that your people made all this.”

Yakon laughed from deep in his throat. “No. My people are not artisans, we are warriors. These are all tribute paid to my government for our protection of this planet and others. After all, they would have none of it without me. All would be slaves to the Kold Empire, so it is fitting that we are rewarded with whatever we want in return for our protection.”

He eventually stopped us in a grand hall, the decorations even more opulent than the halls and wings we had been guided through. At its center, a table laden with all sorts of food I had never seen before, all manner of roasted meats, various kinds of vegetables, bowls of fruit, as well as many foods that I couldn’t identify.

The second we were seated, the boys dug right in. I tried to conceal my frustration. Yes, it was a long journey, but did they have no concerns that the food might be poisoned, or that eating without the host’s permission might be offensive? Yakon seemed the type to just outright murder us instead of relying on poison, but there was no knowing for sure.

I glanced up at Yakon. He lifted a fork to his mouth, gesturing to me to do the same. 

Still, I was suspicious; however, he had caught me watching him eat, and it would have appeared rude to start negotiations with such a sign of distrust. I lifted a spoon of—whatever it was—to my mouth. It tasted fine. At least, nothing about it tasted off, although I was suddenly wishing I had developed a portable device to test for known toxins before beginning this trip. 

Empty bowls piled in front of my companions, but they just kept eating between polite small talk with our host. 

There was only one bowl in front of him. So, he had stopped eating, despite the effort he had gone to show me he was willing to eat the food as well. That… was odd. And something I should probe on. “Aren’t you hungry? You spent over an hour showing us your palace and explaining the various defensive measures you have in place; you must have worked up an appetite.”

His expression didn’t change. “Oh no. I am not particularly hungry. I shall eat after you leave. I prefer my food... fresh.”

For all he said that he wasn’t hungry—I didn’t believe it, not when I saw the light in his eyes and the way he hadn’t stopped drooling since we sat down; I didn’t have the opportunity to follow up when he began the conversation that we came there to have. “I understand that you are attempting to form an alliance of independent worlds that will unite to fight the Kold forces. For my assistance, I require governorship over the nearby planet Shamo as payment. This planet is running low on bodies and we need to replenish. We have an insatiable need for new flesh.”

It made my skin crawl, the way he phrased it. Maybe it was a result of translating from his native language to Galactic Standard. Or maybe in our desperation to fight Frieza, we were striking a deal with the devil instead. 

Tien responded first, ever the strategist. “I’m sorry, but we can’t give you a planet. Especially not one that we don’t have any authority over. However, we can negotiate the trade of raw materials between our planets or consider creating an outpost on this planet. What do your people need?”

Yakon didn’t even pause to consider. “No. What we need are bodies.” Tien started to cut in, but Yakon held up a hand. “With our combined power, as well as the other allies that I will bring into the fold, we will have the power to defend every planet in the sector. They will owe us for our protection, and therefore, you are free to transfer your portion of ownership to me.”

“I—That is not the way we do things on Earth.” Despite being caught off guard, he almost immediately shifted back to diplomat mode. “I apologize, but we cannot promise you rule over Shamo. However, we can discuss establishing an outpost so that any Earth citizens that choose to do so may come to this planet to work or trade if you have more jobs to fill than beings to sustain the economy.”

Yakon paused. “I see. Then I am afraid that you will have to leave.”

Goku butted in, “But we came all this way—”

“And additional subjects are the only compensation that I will accept. We have nothing further to discuss.” He tilted his head. “Unless you have changed your mind.”

Goku paused, confusion written on his face. Tien pursed his lips, third eye closed as he became lost in thought. 

Our previous holo-communications and the rumors we had heard had previously revealed the cruel power he held, but it was in our desperation that he had truly shown his greed. Completely without empathy and insistent on enslaving a whole planet—or worse—we couldn’t agree to those terms. I couldn’t let this go on any further. “No. Goku already told you we can’t give you a planet, and that decision is final,” I said through gritted teeth.

The demon nodded his head and stood. “Then I believe it is time for you to return.”

The flight back was silent for most of the way. 

Inside my head, a storm of thoughts raged. What a waste of precious time. How could we ever have considered this a possibility? There was never anything concrete, but there had always been rumors that Yakon devoured sentients whole and now he had basically confirmed as much through our visit to him. He was sick, and in their over-cautiousness to protect Frieza’s targets from other enemies, we were allowing our own planet to be ravaged by his forces. Goku’s morals were inconsistent, willing to side with a monster that ate sentients alive and be complicit in his reign of slavery and death rather than risk the _potential_ to kill the bystanders on Frieza’s ships. 

Once we were back in range for secure communications, however, that changed. 

Yajirobe’s aggravated tones reverberated throughout the whole ship: “You got nothing? You’re all coming back completely empty-handed? Just had a meal and left?”

I pursed my lips, trying to focus on the constellations ahead rather than the I didn’t get along with Yajirobe and his blunt attitude in the best of times, but now he had the nerve to harangue us over a deal that had almost always been guaranteed to fall apart? Especially when he had done fuck-all to make _any_ alliances happen: whether with Yakon, or others. All he did was fucking complain while Tien and I did all the heavy lifting. 

Fortunately, it seemed he’d shut up while I had been distracted trying to control my emotions. Yamcha and Krillin were speaking now, although they seemed to share the same thoughts as Yajirobe, just in a less accusatory way. “So, is there no chance of an alliance?” Krillin asked. 

Yamcha sighed. “We know you’re all trying your best. It’s just that we’re sitting here, completely unable to help or fight or anything to make this deal happen, and then all you can say is it’s over? Our work for months negotiating this has all been for _nothing?”_

Oof. Tien looked more frustrated than I had seen him in a long time. “I understand your concerns, however—”

Red light flashed in the corner of my vision on a long-unused portion of the control panel. I froze. It couldn’t be. A distress signal?

Tien was at my side in an instant, Yamcha’s voice still scratching from the communicator he held. “What message are they sending?” he asked. 

A few moments and the translator whirred, a foreign voice filtering through the speakers. “Can you understand him?” I asked. 

Tien shook his head. “No. I can’t understand a word. It’s no language that I’ve ever heard on Earth or from one of our allies or Frieza’s.” He looked over his shoulder. “Have you?” I snorted, knowing the response before Tien even asked. No, Yamcha hadn’t heard of it.

But what could it be? It may have been callous, but I was inclined to assume the worst. I’d been burned too many times by Frieza’s experience in manipulating his enemies. “It could be a new iteration of their unmanned scouting ships, but I’ve never heard of one that would send out an untranslatable message before. Perhaps it’s meant to lure out ships that it would otherwise be unable to detect? But if that were the case, I would expect it to use Galactic Standard to send the message.”

“No. It’s not Frieza.”

My chair spun around so fast when I jerked back to face Goku that I nearly toppled out. “What do you mean, it’s not?”

His expression was blank, something that made my blood run cold. Few things could startle Son Goku. “I… I can understand it.”

“Okay.” Strange, but when wasn’t it strange with him? “What does it say?”

He paused. “It’s asking for help. It says something about… a crash and needing assistance.”

“And you’re sure of this?”

“Yes.” I’d known him long enough to know the slow way he spoke meant he was uncomfortable. 

Thankfully, Tien said exactly what was on my mind. “Goku, we can’t risk helping them. If we are killed or injured, Earth's defenses will be just about nonexistent. We’re spread too thin already.”

“No,” he insisted, “we came out here to make allies, and we’re not going to leave without helping them. We’re only all here because we were helped when we needed it. If it’s a trap, I’ll fight them off so we can continue home. We’re not that far away from the border; I know that Bulma’s tech will be able to get us home in no time.”

Flattery wasn’t going to get him anywhere, even if I did appreciate it. But… based on the “one moment please” that came from the receptor… his logic was doing something for the others. 

Less than a minute later, the static of the communicator crackled back to life, Yamcha speaking: “Goku’s right. We came here to make allies, and I’m not sure that we found one in Yakon. Maybe it’s Frieza cronies—that’s nothing we haven’t faced before. But maybe it’s someone who can help us, and we’ll have lost an ally if we just abandon them here for Frieza to find.”

Game over. I was outnumbered, with little hope of arguing out of it. Because once Yamcha sided with Goku, so would Tien. At Tien’s nod seconds later, I gritted my teeth and jerked the controls to the side, bringing us closer to the source of the signal.


End file.
